Lullaby
by Blessed by the Angel of Death
Summary: Toki recieves some comfort from a friend after his father's death. feel free to read and review.


Due to the rather sad happenings that had occured lately, rehearsals were off-schedule (although it wasn't out of the ordinary) and had come to a point where they were temporarily canceled. Not that all too many of the band members protested, they rather enjoyed having some time to do whatever they wanted. Not that they didn't do that on regular basis anyway, but the big and relieving difference was not having Ofdensen criticizing their lack of work on the new album. But since the new album was almost finished and one of the band members was in some kind of apathetic state of shock, even Ofdensen had agreed on letting them have one or two days off. The four band members who didn't seemed to be lying in some kind of awake coma, gladly enjoyed being released from their work in the recording studio. It must have been a tremendous strike of luck, the four thought. First being off work for a trip to Norway and then some extra days off.

The gigantic TV screen showed images of different channels as they were being switched with a steady flow. Eventually, a channel watching something out of interest was located and the images shown on the screen was followed in a more logical order. A cascade of blood was flowing from a victim of the man hunting predator. Even though the creatures were slow, they could easily corner their pray after a while. This one had surprised the man as he was investigating an old storage. The man was unarmed and tried desperately wring out of the zombie's grip. His screams of agony were evolving more and more to gurgling from his blood filled throat. No one really said anything, they just watched as the gory images of manslaughter reflected in their eyes. The only sounds except for the pained shrieks of the zombies' victims was the crackling of a container of potato chips, the gulping sounds of drinking alcohol, and the soft yet fast singing of a guitar.

"This is brutal..."

The deep, rumbling voice of Nathan was a bit hoarse after to much drinking and a minor hung over.

"Why have you never thought of thisch for lyricsch before?!"

Murderface examined the screen with a slight amount of fascination. "You schould totally write schome of that schtuff down!"

"Yeah, you're right..."

Nathan seemed pleased over the idea, yet he showed no signs of will to start right away. He dug up another potato chip from the greasy bag that was now half empty.

The zombies were hoarding up against a group of armed military force. The dead bodies were peppered with the silver drops of raining death that was bullets. Their limbs were being splattered in several bits as a hand grenade was thrown at them. A fountain of dark blood and bits of flesh poured from the explosion. Almost during the exact same time, the shattering of an empty bottle of whiskey that had been tossed over the room came as a minor surprise.

"Shit! I'm outta alcohol here!" Pickles moaned over his loss. He was already past drunk, but he had a desire for more of the liquid poison he more than wanted to drown himself in just a little more. His eyes were bloodshot and he had lost most of his balance and was unable to sit down straightly.

He turned his attention to Skwisgaar and seemed to have realized something in his intoxicated mind.

"Skwisgaar! Y'ur... y'ur a frum Sweden, right?"

"Ja, yous hasents noticeds dat, Pickle?" came the irritated tone in Skwisgaar's terrible English.

"Don't you have...have that Absolut Vodka bottle in yur room? Y'know, the one with Vodka...from Sweden?"

Skwisgaar's fingers flew slightly faster over the Gibson's slender neck out of obvious irritation from Pickles' question.

"Ja, buts I'm ams nots goingks to gives it to yous! Dildo..."

"C'mon, Skwisgaar!" Pickles begged the lead guitarist. But even if he was drunk, he had something in his mind he would like to call an idea. That even could work.

"Skwis...Skwisgaar! If you give me yur vodka, I can give you my...my grand...mother's myspace address, location and... phone number..."

Pickles grinned as he saw he had caught the Swede's attention.

"Waits here, Pickle."

Skwisgaar made his way out of one of the many halls of Mordhaus and gave his guitar to the first best Klokateer he could find. He would get it later...

Once he'd left It seemed as if Nathan had some trouble figuring something out. Slowly, he opened his mouth and spoke of what was so weird.

"Uh, Pickles? Isn't your grandmother dead?"

The intoxicated drummer smiled widely.

"Yup, she is."

Skwisgaar made a quick pace to his room through the long corridor. He hurried past his fellow guitarists' room, as it made him somewhat uneasy. Since their trip to Norway, Toki had been like some sort of ghost. Not that Skwisgaar really could blame him. The youngest band member had promised his dying father to fulfill his last request, yet managed to lead him to his death in another way. What Skwisgaar didn't get was why the Norwegian cared so much. He didn't really seem to like his parents that much anyway. He reached his own room and started to search it for a flask of Vodka. After a few seconds he spotted the half full glass bottle containing the prized liquid. He asked himself why he really had made such an effort or Pickles. He was not really that keen to get to know the drummer's grandmother anyway. He wasn't in the mood. He actually hadn't been in that mood for a while now. Not that it really bothered him that much. He concluded that he just had wanted an explanation to get away from the others' company.

He slowly started his way back to the others. He didn't really want to be alone either. He passed Toki's door, than stopped. He hadn't seen him for days now, and to be honest Skwisgaar was a little bit worried. Not that he would ever would think of it that way. But still, his curiosity was longing for the truth and he decided to check in on his band mate. Without knocking, he walked in to the room.

"Tokis?"

He looked around a split second before spotting the rhythm guitarist hugging his knees in his bed staring into nothing. Even if Skwisgaar rather often reminded Toki of how pathetic he was, Skwisgaar had never really seen him that way. Until now. The plain sight of the little Norwegian in his misery awoken Skwisgaar's hibernating compassion. He actually hated seeing his friend this suffering so badly.

Toki didn't answer or even look at him as the Swede cautiously made his through the room. He stopped half way, thinking how ridiculous he was. He would never allow himself to be comforting to his fellow guitarist, but seeing Toki so tormented made him want to. He shrugged and cleared his throat.

"Eh... Hur mår du?"

Toki reacted a little towards the Swedish words and looked at Skwisgaar with his ice blue eyes. He said nothing.

" Hows do yous feel?" Skwisgaar asked again, in English this time.

Toki's piercing eyes made Skwisgaar uncomfortable.

_'Dis is dildoes!'_ he thought.

He didn't really know what to do, so he made his way out of the room, feeling the intense stare of two blue eyes follow him. Before shutting the door he stopped and looked at Toki again.

"We ams by the biggests TV. Ifs yous want to comes."

With those words he closed the door and slowly paced through Mordhaus to the other band members. He had shocked himself by his spontaneous actions and a bit worried over Toki. He didn't look all that healthy. Skwisgaar memorized the scene in Toki's room once more. No the Norwegian didn't seem too good. He had lost weight from not eating and not resting. He seemed very tired, as if he hadn't slept for a very long time.

He clutched the neck of the vodka flask a little harder and slowly had made his way back. The three occupiers of the sofa didn't take that much notice of Skwisgaar's return. He sat down and opened the bottle to drink some. It was then Pickles remembered what he had asked the Swede of in the first place. Amazingly, he was still consious.

"Gimme that, Blandee!" he slurred and grabbed the bottle before Skwisgaar could drink any of its content. A Klokateer offered his guitar back and Skwisgaar immediately started to play furiously.

"What took you so long?" came the dark sound of Nathan's voice.

Skwisgaar continued to play.

"I, uh... checkeds ins on Tokis. To sees if hes was alives."

He didn't look at the others, instead his eyes were fixed to the big screen still showing the zombie movie.

"Well? Wasch he alive?"

"Ja."

A short silence followed between the four of them. Pickles was drinking the vodka like a thirsting drinks water. He gulped loudly before putting the bottle on the table, almost totally empty.

"Y'know, the kid reeeeeaaaally creeps me the hell owt!" he spat out.

"Yeah, he's all... fucked up, you know..." Nathan agreed.

Thankful over that no attention grew over why he had checked in on Toki, Skwisgaar didn't say anything more. Several minutes passed before Pickles interrupted the silence.

"I'm gonna get to my room before I pass owt. See ya!"

on unsteady feet, the excellent, yet drunk, drummer ventured towards his room. The vodka bottle was left on the table next to the sofa, drained from every drop.

No one took that much of a notice. The silence had fallen between them once more. The gory movie had ended and Nathan had flipped through the channels until he spotted some documentary about serial killers. No one noticed as someone entered the room on soundless feet. Like a ghost he unnoticed made his way to the sofa and sat down next to Skwisgaar. Although, he never intended to frighten the Swede, just not bother him, he managed to make Skwisgaar shout in surprise. So did Murderface, and even Nathan.

"Holy schit, you schcared the crap outta me, Norwegian aschhole!"

"Do not do that again, Toki or I will kill you!"

Three pairs of eyes where staring at the young guitarist. He didn't react at all to their sudden outbreaks of rage and surprise. His blue eyes stared blankly into nothing, seeming to be very far away.

"Uh... I have some, uh, writing to do. See you tomorrow I guess."

Nathan got to his feet and started to leave the room.

"Yeah, it'sch getting pretty late. I'm gonna, uh go too."

Murderface caught up with Nathan and they disappeared. Nathan's low growl was heard explaining how that kid, totally freaked him the fuck out.

Skwisgaar was left alone with the statue like figure that sat next to him. And to be honest, he was getting kind of uncomfortable with being there.

"Sos, uh, I's ams really tireds..." he started as he slowly started to try and get to his feet. But something had stopped him. Toki's cold fingers were lightly wrapped around his wrist.

"Stays. Please?" his little voice begged. But his pleading eyes would have said enough. Skwisgaar sat down confronting them.

"Yous such a dildos..." he muttered, but only half hearted. He examined Toki's face with skeptic eyes.

"Whens was the lasts time sleepst, anyway? Yous looks like hells!"

An almost invisible trace of a smile played on Toki's face.

"Thanks. I hasn't sleepts since we gots homes. I cants sleeps..."

"Whys not?"

Toki was hesitant with answering. For a while it didn't seem as if he would answer at all. Than he sighed, staring at his fists resting in his lap.

"Because, I killeds my fathers and faileds with my missions. Ands I's ams scareds for him..."

He paused, but continued before Skwisgaar had asked him why.

"That he wills comes back and punish me. Like whens I was youngs. But worse."

Toki turned away slightly in shame of his foolishness and cowardly behavior. But Skwisgaar didn't seem to think that of him. He was too confused. He laid aside the guitar and looked at him, turning off the TV.

"Whats dids he do to yous, Toki?" he asked with a softer voice he didn't think he possessed. But he really wanted to make his friend feel a bit better, even though he was quite shocked about his own behavior. He felt a kind of responsibility to do that. And there was only the two of them in the room.

Toki shivered a bit before he seemed to have come to a decision of some sort. He closed his eyes and took of his blue T-shirt with his back facing Skwisgaar, exposing it to him

"Dis."

Skwisgaar forgot about the embarrassment he felt and gasped. Toki's back was covered in a net of dark scars that still seem to be paining him as much as they had done when his blood leaked from them. Like something had clawed of the skin leaving a humiliating trail of having been superior.

Toki shivered again as Skwisgaar had let one of his long fingers follow a dark line. He also noticed how very much thinner Toki had become. He was starting to look more like a skeleton than his normal, well-built self.

"Whats happends to yous, Toki?"

The question seemed to stress the little Norwegian even more and he quickly hid his scars with his T-shirt once more. He kept his back facing Skwisgaar, hiding in the best way he could at that moment.

Toki remained silent as he refused to let Skwisgaar find out that he only barely could hold his burning tears back. He didn't want to seem even more of a weakling to Skwisgaar than he already did. Even if the Swede constantly insulted him and let him know that he was only rhythm guitarist for a reason, he idolized him secretly. A great deal, actually. He tried hard to gain the lead guitarist's respect and friendship, so he didn't allow himself to act weak in front of him. Toki was already upset over letting himself show Skwisgaar the scars from his entire childhood. But a faint hope had woken inside of him when he thought he had traced some compassion in the Ice King's eyes and voice. He wanted so dearly to be taken care of, something he had never really been by anyone but himself. But something had convinced him that it was a risk he was willing to take. He was frightened by his parents still. They were still torturing him inhumanely.

The warmth of a slender hand was put on his shoulder, causing him to wince a little by surprise. The hand immediately disappeared. His body seemed to grow so much colder without its soft pressure and he regretted badly having only reacted by reflex.

"I's sorrys Skwisgaar! I didn'ts means to..." he quickly said while turning to face him, tears burning painfully. The Swede's blue gaze seemed to arch through his own and healing a bit with his caring. For he did care about Toki. His best friend.

"Yous such a dildo, Tokis." he smiled and shielded him in a meaning embrace. Toki didn't see it coming at all, but as soon as the Ice King had wired his arms around him, keeping his pain away, he rested in his hug. And then the tears came. Skwisgaar didn't mind, and tenderly stroke him over his long, soft hair.

_'Like a guardian angel with shielding wings. En beskyttende engel."_ he thought, ignoring how stupid he must have sounded to anyone else.

After a while, the sobbing and weeping came to an end and left only a tense shuddering. Skwisgaar wasn't familiar in his position in any way, but he didn't question his actions. His little Toki, his best friend, was a tormented young soul. But now he seemed somewhat at peace. His chest rose and fell steadily and a lot more relaxed. Almost as if he was asleep.

"Toki? Ams yous sleepings?" Skwisgaar asked quietly.

A faint little laugh escaped the Norwegian.

"Almosts, sorrys."

"Ams yous tireds?"

"Ja."

"Yous can sleeps if you wants. I ams stayingks."

Toki met his gaze with his peculiar eyes. They seemed so thankful, for something that wasn't that much, thought Skwisgaar.

"Thanks yous, Skwisgaar." he fell silent and rested on the Swede's chest, still embraced by his arms (or wings, as he referred them to).

"Yous my bests friend, Skwisgaar..." he whispered before drifting into slumber.

"Pfft!" was the response, followed by long fingers stroking his back. He smiled before sleeping for the first time in a very long time.

Skwisgaar watched his friend peacefully sleep, smiling as well. He'd known Toki for a while, he had always liked him. But he liked to disguise it with various teasing stunts and such. After all, he was the Ice King. But right now, he was filled with warmth he used for his best friend and heal the scars of his soul. He came to think of an old lullaby some old lady that had taken care of him once in a while in his childhood days. A soothing melody, he remembered. He started humming the melody a while before the words came back to him. Quietly, just to be on the safe side, he sang them.

"_Sov du lilla vide ung_

_än så är det vinter_

_än så sova björk och ljung_

_ros och hyacinter_

_Än så är det långt till vår_

_Än så är det vinter_

_Sov du lilla vide ung_

_Än så är det vinter"_

translations.....

"en beskyttende engel" (nor) - a guarding angel

the lullaby (swedish):

sleep young willow

winter is still here

still sleeps birch and heather

roses and hyacinths

sleep young willow

winter is still here


End file.
